Looking for love is
by dhsaber
Summary: This is a poem I wrote that reminds me of the inside of the paper house.


Before ever reading The forbidden Games, I wrote this. However

all through reading the book, with it's long halls and several doors, my old poem kept comming to mind.

So I thought I'd share it.

I wrote this poem half asleep, so please bare with me, if it's off, a bit Category:  
Writing and Poetry

Looking for love is:

Like walking down the corridor of an old huge hotel.

no key in hand, only instinct ,with no room number to tell.

You pause a little at each doorway, wondering, is this the right one?

Feeling a little lost, you contemplate , should I turn and run,

Each door looks different, yet some what the same.

It starts getting so confusing, you forget which way you came.

Some doors are run down, chipped and peeling,

as if deserted long ago, abandoned, and left without feeling.

While other doors are metal, and look so strong,

are they made for keeping people out, locking them in, or just hiding what is wrong?

Other have fine carvings, and so much adorn

you imagine what's on the other side, and feel a little torn,

What is the price of this suite? Will it be to high,

Would I be happy here, or is it only pleasing to the eye?

Some of the doors are open enough to allow you to come inside.

So you step in just a little to see what you can find.

You are wide eyed at first, at all the luxuries that you see,

you stay awhile thinking, maybe this is the place for me.

But as night falls and you are done appreciating the art,

you realize there is no warmth, it is cold, no fire burns in it's hearth.

The next door you knock ever so softly, Opens allowing you to see,

every thing you hoped for, and all the things you think you need.

it seems to know exactly ,what it is you want.

You feel comfortable and relaxed, right from the very start.

You go to sleep thinking " This is where I will call home, it's here I want to stay"

Unfortunately , it wasn't what you thought, you realize, come the light of day.

The room belongs to someone else, so you reluctantly must go,

you glance back one more time, as you walk away real slow.

Suddenly you are in the hall again, struggling to swim upstream.

all the doors are shut this time, and you just want to scream.

Are any of the doors the right one? Your determined to knock on no more,

you tell yourself you'll stay in the hall, unwilling to take the risks, and chances anymore ,

which always seem to follow, after knocking, upon the wrong door.

Suddenly you are caught in a current, and can barley stay afloat,

You wish there was something secure to grab, or someone would just throw you a rope.

The doors are passing quickly now, just a blur as you pass by,

you cannot manage to catch your breath, even long enough to cry

You can see the door at the end of the hall, and close your eyes against the impending inevitable.

as Images go fleeting threw your mind, of your crumpled body, smashed upon impact of the unpenetratable

You realize you are no longer moving, so you open your eyes, expecting to be dead,

you find the door had opened, and the stream had deposited you inside instead.

At first your eyes don't seem to focus and you can't see very much.

Just the glow of a candle off in the distance, while you wait for your eyes to adjust.

Exhausted you lie there panting , when you notice the unfamiliar scents in the air.

You start to panic and cry, till you feel a soothing hand running threw your tangled hair.

You hear a quite voice say " sshhh...you are safe here now with me"

To tired to fight, you tell yourself, "first thing in the morning ,I will leave"

When you awaken there is coffee, sitting next to your bed.

You drink it greedily, still trying ,to clear your foggy head.

After the first few sips you notice there are slipper and a robe.

You quickly put them on , when a note falls

out saying, " welcome to your new home,

I've waited patiently, hoping you'd knock upon my door.

Sorry about the rain outside, and all you had to endure.

I've taken the liberty of filling the room , with everything I saw you liked.

I don't have all the luxuries, but my hearth is always burning bright.

I'll do my best, to provide for each and all your needs.

In hopes that you will choose to stay,and never want to leave."

by Deidre Holladay Hughes


End file.
